To Love, Honor And Defend. Beth Cornelison

We got him for assaulting the woman whose honor you were defending.”

      Cal quirked a dark eyebrow. “I’ll be damned.”

      Libby sneaked a peek toward Ally, mostly to escape the scrutiny of Cal’s unsettling stare. Free from her father’s surveillance, Ally plucked the pepperoni from her slice of pizza and jammed the pieces in her mouth as fast as she could. A fevered excitement glowed in her eyes, and tomato sauce circled her mouth. Warmth stirred in Libby’s chest.

      “Was he convicted? Did he do time?”

      Libby snapped her gaze back to Cal. “Yes and no.”

      “Meaning?”

      Libby picked up her own slice of pizza but found she no longer had an appetite. She set the food back down and met Cal’s querying gaze. Bracing herself for his reaction, she said, “Yes, he was convicted. No, he didn’t serve time. He got a hefty fine, parole and one thousand hours public service.”

      Cal rocked back in the booth as if from a physical blow. He gaped at Libby, a parade of emotions—shock, disbelief, horror, and finally fury—crossing his face. Through clenched teeth, he bit out a curse. Obviously realizing his mistake, he winced and shot a glance at Ally.

      “I argued for a stiffer penalty, but Ralston’s lawyer played up the guy’s own abuse as a child. Ralston swore on the stand to seek counseling. Obviously, the jury felt he deserved a second chance.” She sighed her own frustration with the verdict and turned to watch the family at the next table.

      The father had his arm around his wife’s shoulders, his fingers strumming the woman’s arm in a loving caress. Libby jerked her gaze away when memories of Cal’s hands roaming her skin flashed in her mind’s eye. A tingle raced through her, and her mouth became dry. The hands she’d just envisioned stroking her body reached across the table and caught her wrists.

      “Hey, what is it? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

      Pulling free from the tantalizing warmth of Cal’s grasp, she tugged up a corner of her mouth in a failed grin. “I did.” She sighed. “But I’m okay now.”

      Cal poked at his dinner, his somber mood reflected in the grim set of his mouth, the deep furrows in his brow. “Some justice system we have, huh?”

      “It works most of the time.”

      He lifted a dubious glare. “Not that I can see.”

      When he sent his daughter a sideways glance, his eyebrows shot up, and the first real smile to grace his lips all night lit his face.

      Libby took in Ally’s empty plate and sauce-smeared face and had to grin herself.

      “Hey, kitten. Looks like you’re a member of the Clean Plate Club!” He leaned a little closer to dab a napkin at the mess on Ally’s mouth and chin. “You know that means you get a lollipop for dessert, don’t you?”

      Ally arched an eyebrow in a manner so like her father, Libby’s pulse stumbled. The little girl sat an inch or two closer to the table and eyed the remaining slices on the tray. “Is there more?”

      “Sure, you can have more, sweetie.” He reloaded her plate and backed off as Ally dived in, once again stripping off the pepperoni for consumption first.

      Cal’s relief was palpable. His shoulders relaxed, and the tension flowed out of his jaw, allowing the radiance of his smile to shine through. He turned his dazzling grin toward Libby, and a strange warmth expanded in her chest, stealing her breath.

      She’d promised to play family with Cal for as long as it took for him to secure his rights to Ally. How would she ever survive months of marriage if just one night with him and his precious daughter had her emotions twisted in knots?

      The only way she saw herself getting through the next several months with her heart intact was to set limits, lay out some ground rules, enforce some safeguards. She watched Cal tuck a wisp of hair behind Ally’s ear and her own skin burned, longing for that tender touch. Libby chafed her arms and looked away.

      Rule number one had to be no physical contact. Her relationship with Cal had to stay strictly hands-off.

      Or she was a goner.